40-YEARS AGO

Monday, March 19, 2018

Almost to the day, we had the World Premiere of our G rated film The Man From Clover Grove (c) at the Bellaire Theatre in Houston, Texas. It was a very big deal for us. The film was produced for $45,000 all in and had a full union crew, and was signatory to all 3 guilds SAG, DGA and WGA. Everyone worked for a lowest salary allowed at the time and in 12 days we completed the film. Most of the cast flew into Houston, rode in the Mayor's limo, had a police escort to the theatre and said hello to a packed theatre.

The next day our film went wide. In Houston we played at the Park III, Northwest 4, Town & Country 6, East Park and the Southgate. The motion picture everyone said couldn't be done then opened in 350 theaters across the country. Within the first month the number of screens increased to over 700. After the theatre run the film was transferred from 35mm to Beta and VHS and reached out to the home video market. When Beta and then VHS were phased out, so was our film. Now, via digital magic, the film has been re-digitized and mixed in Dolby Stereo - and for the first time is available on DVD and MOD. Amazon Prime approved the quality and the 40-year old classic has been given a renewed lease on life. It's a wonderful message for young filmmakers to keep their copyright alive and write subject matters that can live on as time changes and never have their films be considered dated or aged.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Back in the 70's when young filmmakers made motorcycle, horror and
T&A flicks I did the opposite and made a G rated goofy comedy, The Man From
Clover Grove. As a first time film director, I was blessed with a great cast,
Ron Masak, Rose Marie, Buddy Lester, Cheryl Miller, Richard Deacon, Paul
Winchell, Stu Gilliam, Jed Allan, Spencer Milligan, Joe Higgins and Billy
Hillman. The all union crew were fantastic. It was a union/guild challenge,
(NABET, SAG, DGA and WGA) to make a film for less than $50,000 all in and
delivered. As a testament to young filmmakers we brought the film in and
delivered it for distribution for less than $45,000. So, as it turned out we
made what has become a classic. It's corny fun the kids loved then and still
love today. We even had a World Premiere in Houston Texas at the Tercar Theatre
in the Mayor’s Limousine and a full police escort that led the entire cast to -
at the time - one of the largest theaters in town. We shot in 35mm and after
1,500 plus theaters played the film in the U.S., it enjoyed a theatrical
foreign run before finally being released on Beta and VHS. Now for the firs
time, the film has been digitally re-mastered with a soundtrack in Dolby Stereo
The Dove Foundation gave the film 5 Doves. As a young filmmaker I had no fear.
The things I didn’t learn in school I discovered on the set. I made every
mistake a young filmmaker can make and the cast and crew helped me reach the
goal line. I wanted Children of all ages to enjoy a clean silly movie and as history
proved we made a film that is ageless and has outlived all the biker, horror
and T&A films made back then. From Leomark Studios and available on Amazon
worldwide, you can get the official Dolby Digital re-mastered copy as: www.amazon.com/dp/B079MK9S2T

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Filmmakers and screenwriters enjoy a visit to the big screen.
When was the last time you took in a film and found the theatre more than half empty?

Ever ask why so few are coming to the theatre? Stand out front
and listen. It’s amazing to watch a family of four or five walk to the ticket
window, hesitate when reading the prices, and slowly shrink back and make a
beeline to the parking lot.

I overheard one man say, “Fifty bucks plus the concession stand
and then add the babysitter? Are you kidding? Let’s rent a movie and have a backyard
picnic.”

I’m just like every filmmaker in the business. Most don’t
have an “E” ticket into the studios or have an “A” agent pushing to get your
project through the door. Without major help, the chances of a brilliant film
or screenplay being read or getting a green light for production are in the
same category as finding a diamond ring at the dump under twenty tons of
miscellaneous trash.

I don’t want to sound negative, but sometimes a reality check
floats to the surface and filmmakers must recognize truth and facts before the
project can search for a lifeline.

Many years ago I attended a Theatre Owner’s convention. A
friend of mine owned a small chain and invited me to keep him company. I had
this crazy idea then and still have it. I discussed with a group of owners why
more theatres didn’t use their “down time” or if you will “Empty Seat Time” to increase
opportunities of making more money?

My friend and his colleagues laughed at my idea. Many of them
are no longer in business. I’ll bet my conception of improving customer
relations back then would work even better in today markets.

Stop laughing. Hotel chains have empty rooms, airline
companies vacant seats, retailers overstocked with product find ways to unload un-purchased
goods by wholesaling inventory off to smaller retailers, so why can’t theatres
chains use empty seats to attract a new audience? Why not learn the art of bartering
between theatre owner and filmmaker so everyone can make money? How many great Indy
films have been made but can’t find distribution or theatres to show them?

It’s tough when a producer can’t bring his or her product to
market and this festering situation creates a catastrophic death sentence for
many brilliantly entertaining motion pictures? In most cases these films may
find a release via DVD rental or a minor TV or cable sale, but miss hitting
even a single at the ballpark.

Everyone who enjoys films has rented an unknown production
with no stars or famous filmmakers and is truly entertained. Most wonder what
happened and why did such a great film never surface? How did this brilliantly
produced film get skipped over by all the studios, distributors and theatres? The answer is simple, no stars, no famous
director or worse no best-selling novel to pre-build an audience. The
production is “just another film.”

Take “ROOM” for
example. This is a great film, fabulous acting and a simple story. This film
could have easily slipped through the cracks and disappeared. Instead it got
lucky, found a home, found an entity willing to take a chance on a film with no
known stars, no named director, hell the film wasn’t even made in America – and
yet became a huge hit.

There are many films like this and it’s a shame. It’s hard
enough for independent filmmakers to raise money and produce a film. Every
investor wants a distributor, gold up front and profit before making the final
cut because financiers know the odds are against making money without all the
pieces being in the right place before the start of production. Very few
independent films can get a guarantee, a distributor’s cash advance, a negative
pickup, or even an agreement showing a guarantee of distribution. The Indy
distributors need help too.

Wait a minute. What if, ah, don’t you love those three
little words? What if you find a small distributor willing to run with your
film and maybe a group of theatres are willing to screen the film without all
the guarantees of advertising and TV commercials?

Impossible? No way. Let’s not forget social media. We have
creative minds making films and raising money so there must be a way to ask the
theatre chains why not use downtime, that curse of “empty seat syndrome” for
better use? Start showing the lesser known films at particular times of the day
– maybe even offer a price break at the ticket box – and see if any of the new products
on the block can grow legs?

What if the filmmakers help the theatres with social media?
Using Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and other social media platforms or even
create their own infomercials to create a buzz about their film? I believe that
would do the trick. Amazing how fast social media responds to something good.
If a filmmaker can made a good commercial film he or she can build a social
media platforms and infomercials.

Every major and minor theatre owner has empty seat syndrome.
Why they haven’t figured out a way to cure this by now is the mystery. What are
they waiting for – to go out of business? Ticket prices are too high but they
too have to meet the studio minimum or they don’t get the big films. They
suffer if the big film is a turkey and then end up with … empty seats. Forget
overhead or lack of snack bar sales, if the big films take a dump so does the
revenue stream.

If theatres learned to bring in new blood, or I guess I
should say new films from the Indy world, the audiences would come out of
curiosity. Everyone likes to go to the theatre and see a film on the “BIG”
screen. What everyone doesn’t like to do is pay $25 up to $50 dollars per
couple to see a film or a $100 for a family of four. If a bad film is watched they
may not come back to the theatre for months.

What if theatres found a way to bring in a constant flow of
new product in this digital world we live in, and offer unhappy customers a
reduction or a discount ticket to see another great film with lesser stars or
an unknown filmmaker?

What if theatres could deal with a smaller less greedy or
over-taxed distributor without guarantees or advances and still get quality
first run films? They could make simple deals and split the box office with a
number that would make both sides happy?

Gee, maybe, just maybe small films might start making money
for the investors, the red box and Netflix would have more product, more films
would then have a theatrical run so foreign sales would increase in size and …
AND the theatres would start making extra revenue from all those empty seats
that are … well empty.

Keep in mind this could work. Every single move made by
corporate America begins with an idea. This particular one has been floating
around for a long time. Who knows? Maybe the major theatre owners and studios
will get together and agree on something new?

So, when I’m not running around trying to raise money to
make another independent film as I perennially endure 24/7, I take time to put
words together for another novel or screenplay, aid my fellow filmmakers and
writers any way I can, and do my best to stir up the kettle. Drop me a line, I
have an opinion on everything.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

We write words. We hope that pile of nonsense can be
organized into an order others will enjoy reading and watching.

Writers have goals, albeit a novel, short story or
screenplay. I’ll leave theatre plays and other media out of the conversation
for the time being.

We finish the work. It’s re-read, polished, examined by
friends and agreed upon to be the final draft. It’s done.

But is all that work really done? Is it commercial? Did you
create a backstory? Is there one character that will be loved, hated or
admired? In other words, is it complete?

Let’s assume the ultimate goal is to write a screenplay
designed for studio production and of course make money for everyone and win an
Academy Award.

Your goal is aggressive, but can it be reached? Of course it
can. In the motion picture industry everything is possible. Even the impossible
can be flipped into the positive.

Can you learn to write from a book? Yes and no. Yes, you can
learn sentence structure and the proper way to organize written work. Will the
book teach you how to create story in depth? Some will argue, but in my opinion
the answer is a resounding no. The written word comes from the heart not a
book. If you tell a great story you can write one.

As a studio reader, you receive hundreds of submissions. How
many can you read in a day or week? How do you grab the attention of the
reader? You hook them and you do it in the first 5 to 10 pages. If you wait too
long, the chances of your project getting covered are reduced to ashes.

So, the catch is to create this great story. How do you
write it for submission? What does a great story need? The entire story must be
one that can be told to others in two minutes. A story that is so entertaining
you can reduce it to a one-page, compelling synopsis. A manuscript or
screenplay, so ridiculously written the reader wants to flip the page. That’s
your magic bullet.

Writing an agent or publisher a query letter for your
manuscript is no different than verbally pitching a story or TV series idea. To
hook the reader, you get anywhere from seconds to hours to secure interest from
your audience. Decisions come quickly and sometimes they’re not always fair.
Time is truly a commodity with limited boundaries. If your story is great, time
is taken, reading schedules set aside and time becomes your pal. If the story
is slow out the starting gate and you lose the attention of your audience, it
can mean a certain death to the project. People want to turn pages. They want
to know what’s happening with the story, the characters and those briefly
mentioned in your backstory. The audience is demanding, short on temper and
patience. They need to be entertained albeit that comes in many different
formations. The audience is powerful and can’t be fooled or sweet-talked with
nonsense.

It all comes down to the story and the backstory that
accompanies your work. Take a look at all the fabulous screenplays considered
for the Writers Guild of America and the Academy Awards this year. Boil it down
to the finalist list and then pick the best original and the best adaptation. Spotlight
had all the right elements and started with a bare-bones concept of what the
Catholic Church had done. Spotlight was written as a story
built by brilliant kids playing building blocks. They had backstory, story and
history all going in the same direction. The story had a group of wonderful
characters that knew how to interplay, mystery was created, and boredom
eliminated.

Writing Spotlight took time and hard work.
It paid off for Josh Singer and Tom McCarthy at the Writers Guild – now we wait
to see if they win the Academy Award.

When you examine the other top 4 films, Bridge of Spies, Written
by Matt Charman, Ethan Coen and Joel Coen; Sicario, Written by Taylor Sheridan;
Straight
Out of Compton Screenplay by Jonathan Herman and Andrea Berloff; Story
by S. Leigh Savidge, Alan Wenkus and Andrea Berlott; and Trainwreck, Written by
Amy Schumer – you realize each had a great backstory, entertaining characters
from all walks of life, unique story content, and perfectly developed
beginnings, middles and endings.

Examining the best Adapted Screenplay crawls into a
different bag of tricks. Here they have the story, backstory and a list of
characters a mile long. The locations are set, and who and where everyone came
from has all ready been exposed. So what’s the big deal? Ah, an adaptation is
the gift of learning how to take a 500-page book and transpose the breathtaking
manuscript into a 125-page screenplay. It sounds easy until you check the
works, read the books or biography and realize there is so much wonderful stuff
in each novel - your script can’t live without including all of it. On the
second or third read you find ways to trim. The writer’s bag of tricks includes
ways to remove words, restructure the intent, and still keep the authenticity
and integrity of the original work.

Out of all the wonderful material available, the list
dwindled down to the 5 best. The peers of those who write the words create the
list – so the audience is not only picky but also demanding. They don’t want to
make mistakes and usually don’t. They read, watch films and vote.

The narrowed list for best adaptation screenplays at the
Writers Guild of America included: The Big Short, Screenplay by Charles
Randolph and Adam McKay; Based on the Book by Michael Lewis; Carol,
Screenplay by Phyllis Nagy; Based on the Novel “The Price of Salt” by Patricia
Highsmith; The Martian, Screenplay by Drew Goddard; Based on the Novel by
Andy Weir; Steve Jobs, Screenplay by Aaron Sorkin; Based on the Book by
Walter Isaacson; and Trumbo, Written by John McNamara;
Based on the Biography by Bruce Cook.

After many hours of watching films and reading screenplays,
my writer colleagues and I voted again. The list was exciting and all those
words hung in the balance. We’re a picky bunch. It took time to get the list to
5 – and then reduced to what we all thought was the best. The Big Short was chosen.
The script started with a bang, the dialogue flew against the walls, the
characters roared, laughed and behaved as expected, and the story dazzled. The
writers made it look easy. They had the material. All they had to do was create
magic and that’s what they did.

The key to most great written works is the backstory. This
is where you mold the characters and give them a personality. If you scrimp on
this through development your story will suffer.

An idea for an original story is your seedling. You plant it
in your computer and water it by giving it a name. It percolates like a
whispering coffeemaker. A few characters are added. Who are these people? Where
did they come from? Do you have a family, husband, wife, kids, parents or other
relatives? What about a dog, cat or bird? The story is in California, but is
that where the characters were born? What about traveling the world or
beginning life out of the country? What about friends or drinking partners? Are
they sexually active? Do they have a dark past? This all falls into the
backstory category. Without it, there is no body for the work to build from.

Have you written an idea and now it sits there as a lost
child in need of direction? It happens to all writers and it’s not exactly
writers block – it’s a story that jumped tracks and is going in a different
direction than first started. Frustration stops you and kills the story. It
goes into the filing cabinet or story folder on an external drive. You may visit
it from time to time or forget it was ever written. You move on.

Wait a minute! What if that simple idea is a great one? What
if the underbelly of the story not only grows muscular legs – it can run the
mile faster than anyone else? If you
don’t go back for a second or tenth look, you’ll never know.

If I’m not goofing around in front or behind the camera or
writing another work, I spend time helping others locate the ground beneath
their dancing fingers. If I can help you, let me know.

It’s an art. It’s knowing how to pull the
audience into the work, yank their strings, entertain them even with the
unexpected, and know how to twist a scene or chapter into the impossible and
still explain them in a way that an audience accepts.

Take for example:

It’s stormy. Rain is pounding the house and the
power cut off. Your heroine hears a noise. She believes it originated in the
basement. She finds a flashlight, but the batteries are dying. What does she
do?

If you write the story in a normal voice, she
runs for the door to get help.

Why would you do that when you take the chance
of losing your audience? No, she doesn’t run. When you write this scene, you
need a moment of writing dumb. The flashlight dims and when she reaches mid-way
with the bottom of the stairs only a few feet away, she continues. She goes for
it, and that’s when the flashlight dies. Now she’s in the dark. Will your
heroine scramble up the stairs? No, of course not. She enters the basement
looking for a candle and walks over warped creaking floorboards in slow,
methodical steps. Wind from a broken window causes the candle to flicker and go
out. Will she retreat? No! She’ll look for a match.

Writing dumb is an art. Everything your brain conceives
in character development – you turn around and write an opposing
nonconventional simulation.

Let’s take a soap opera for a moment. People
standing a few feet away don’t hear a “must hear” clue. Later, in that same
restaurant or hallway, standing right where they were earlier, two characters
offer a clue or blab critical storyline gossip – and guess what? Your
characters hear the whole conversation. Now he or she can blackmail others with
the overheard information.

A perfectly timed cell phone call interrupts
conversations. People do careless sex until the time is right for a pregnancy.
They use the ‘who’s baby is it’ and this forces the audience to guess – and suddenly
they’re involved.

Will important people get caught even though they
are doing the obvious? No, of course not. What fun would that be?

In a soap, you can have a characters carve out a
kidney from a stranger to save a life. Does it have to be a perfect match? Not
on your life. No time for testing.

What about surgery on a kitchen table without
instruments? Works for the audience if the man is being saved is their hero.
They don’t care about rusty knives. They want the guy to live.

Dumb writing gets better. People jump out of a
plane, the parachute doesn’t open. They land in trees. Cut to the hospital.
Both survived. How? Who cares?

Think about the opposite of every exchange and then create it in a doable way.
Are details important? No, not if a life is in danger or their hero is about to
die.

On a soap opera, do the characters think about
safe sex? Takes too much time. The audience wants the characters to dive in and
get on with the action. What about that afternoon drink? In the soap opera
world the characters can drink all day every day. Does it hurt their health?
Who cares? The audience doesn’t. They never think about their beloved
characters getting sick. Actors don’t get sick. What fun is that?

Will dumb writing work in a novel? Sure, as long
as you justify the creation in a way that makes sense. Romance novels do it all
the time. Grant you, in real life people do stupid things, so enhancing them
works if you’re good at the descriptions. Remember, you drive your characters.
You can make them work, kill them off, or give them a disease.

In an action packed story, you have limited time
to develop romance, personal feelings, children growing up, household issues or
marriage problems. You want the audience to flip those pages and race to the
end. Did their hero live? Did he get the crooks or killers? If you satisfy the
reader or viewer, most of these issues can be part of the reading satisfaction.
Drop a hint here and there, a phone call or text message. It saves dealing with
unnecessary dialogue or descriptive locations not important to the story. The
reader or viewer wants action and more of the same.

Writing dumb is an art. It’s not for every book
or screenplay. It doesn’t work at all in most stories, but the market is huge
for a great story full of pie ingredients when the crust is unnecessary and
used for filler material.

Writing dumb can be lucrative when you master
the art of doing the opposite of what the audience expects.

How do you learn writing dumb? Many can’t or
will never get a handle on the words just like most can’t sing, dance or fly a
plane. You can tell by the stories you share with others. Can you easily pull
the wool over their eyes? Is it possible to fool the unexpected? Will you learn
to tease and hold back the truth no matter what? Like I said, it’s a gift to
gab. That translates into words that dazzle.

There must be a reason for everything you write
about. Take a simple scenario and make it complicated. Have characters do
things they’d never do in the real world.

What excites you can only be expanded into the
outrageous and then take it one or two more steps over the edge.

When you set goals to write fast, your time is
limited for detail. That means you need problems not easily solved, but your
characters are witty, stupid-dumb and managed the impossible. Going over insane
levels to get the point across works if dumb writing makes it justifiable.

As long as your audience accepts the insanity of
each development and doesn’t stop to question your decisions you’re home free.
Only when the audience stops and wonders about the canvas you painted will you
find yourself in trouble.

You can’t fool your audience, but you can
entertain them. There is a huge spread in-between the two. Don’t assume your
audience is dumb because they’re not. They bought your book, watched your TV
show or paid to see a good movie. They demand entertainment and when you try to
fool them the whole thing falls apart.

I’ve written screenplays, directed films and
created novels that all have snippets it writing dumb added. A few readers will
never get it. Critics may bash you, but when the audience loves the work the
critics become irrelevant. I’ve said before, every review helps a writer or
filmmaker and I meant every word. Anyone taking the time to read or view my
work is appreciated. I welcome reviews, good and bad. They all help. Not
everyone will like your work. There are those who may even hate what you do or
how you did it, but if your core audience likes it and accepts the path chosen
– you’ve done your job well.

There’s a lot more on this topic and we’ll talk
more about it another time. Writing dumb can be very rewarding. As I’ve said
before, I know writers making six and seven figures yearly writing very silly
stuff that sells and entertains.

Keep the faith and continue writing no matter
what you do. Find time and get to the last page with a smile.

Followers

About Me

William Byron Hillman
was born in Chicago, Illinois. His father was an accountant for mobster Al
Capone. As an adult one of his best friends was an FBI/Secret Service Agent. He
toured as a singer, and moved to Hollywood to continue his acting career. His
first screenplay, Thetus, was sold to
American International Pictures. He is a world-renowned actor, author, feature
film director, screenwriter, producer, songwriter/composer and published author
of 15 novels. Enjoys being a national motivational speaker, product
spokesperson and screenplay consultant.